A/N: Okay, I am officially back. This took about 15 thousand years to finish and I apologize for that, there's really no excuse. However, I have used the time that I took off to put a lot more thought into this story and I am currently in the process of experimenting with new ideas, one of which I included in this chapter. Just as a special announcement, as of recently I have decided that there will be, overall, around 25 chapters in this story, depending on the details I decide to include. Also, there is a possibility of a sequel, which, again, depends on plot development and popularity. If you guys would like that be sure to let me know. Without further ado, here is the much anticipated chapter 7.

Side note - Thank you Asa for motivating me to write this by telling me that Paily would bang in the Christmas episode if I didn't. I dedicate this to you. And in addition, I updated before you so I win.


Chapter 7

A week passed. A week of restless, sleepless nights, a week of self hatred, a week of new perspectives and the suffocation that came with waiting for her. She never showed up. Never gave an explanation, not that I expected one. "Explanations are for amateurs," I could almost hear her voice ring out in the open air, see her cocky smirk and feel the deadly tension.

Even when she wasn't here, she was lingering, haunting me, tormenting me. The thoughts inside my head were so scattered and fragmented, an unorganized and relentless clutter just bound to hold me prisoner in shambles.

There was a hospital again.

A faint shuffling of feet.

I couldn't open my eyes.

And neither could she.

There were sobs and they were pitiful. "Please," she whimpers, so desperate and pleading. "Please." But I'm paralyzed. I don't react. Warmth brushes against my right hand and I feel the contact of soft skin against mine. She grasps onto me like I'm dying. And maybe I am.

"Please! Please! God wake up! Wake up! Stay with me! Please!" She's hysterical now, her voice strained and broken, rising with every word that escapes from her lips. I feel a hand on my face, a thumb against my cheek. There's an incessant beeping and labored breathing followed by the sound of pure panic. Suddenly I'm tired again, too tired to keep listening.

The beeping stops and there's a muffled scream. Lamenting. "I'm sorry," she chokes out, reduced to barely a whisper now. Sound distorts and fades away. "I'm sorry,"

But she's not.

I slam my fist against the hood of my truck, stubborn and unmoving in the driveway. My hand throbbed from the brutal force of the contact, but I could hardly feel the pain. A purple patch of bruises decorated my knuckles as I flexed my fingers.

Anger rose up in me. She had taken the keys. My keys.

I was running low on food supplies and I needed a way to restock, but I had no directions and no vehicle. I took a quick glance down at my battered hand again, contemplating. I decided to walk. That was only my second stupid decision of the day.

Lawn mowers hummed from the vicinity of the neighborhood as I ducked beneath the shadows of the tall trees to retie my shoestrings. Little fragments and pieces were coming back to me. I wish I didn't remember.

I didn't know what it meant, or how any of it was supposed to make me feel. I started flat lining, just like she said I had, but it seemed all too convenient, as if it were a decoy, a hoax. I didn't have to watch the surveillance video anymore, I knew what was on it.

Flashback to the day before

The faint beeping of something inside my nightstand had been enough to wake me from a deep sleep at 2 am. I instinctively turned on the lamp nearest to me and surveyed the area, scanning every crease and crack in the wall to make sure nobody had entered my bedroom unwanted.

I hastily rolled out of bed, on high alert as the sound continued. I listened closely and tried to identify the location in which it was coming from, opening all the drawers simultaneously. The small cellular device I had discovered earlier was lit up, though it had been untouched since I last found it.

I frantically flipped it open and pressed random buttons until I could get it to turn off. Low battery, the screen had indicated, but I didn't recall leaving it on. That was when a match inside of me lit itself and grew from a flame to a raging fire. The beeping of the phone and the beeping at the hospital had sounded similar enough to trigger a memory.

I rubbed my temples with my fingers and sat lifeless, half horrified and half relieved at the fact that something as simple as that had the power to unravel the forgotten shards of my past. But it was just a clue.

It could take years for me to recollect every important detail, just to sketch a basic idea in my mind of what had actually happened to me, and that was only assuming that I did recollect the details.

My eyebrows scrunched together as I flipped the pink electronic object in my hand over and over. There had to be a charger nearby.

I extended my left arm and riffled through the nightstand drawers again as an overwhelming thought urgently consumed me. Underneath a pajama shirt I had carelessly stuffed into the bottom was a skinny black cord with a piece of tape wrapped around it.

I held it up, scrambling to plug it into the wall despite its condition and likelihood to work. I attached the phone to the charger after fiddling with the outlet and crossed my fingers, praying.

An orange light flickered to life on the side of the cellular device and I jumped on impulse, nearly losing my balance. This could be my way out.

My hands were shaking with anticipation, clutching the phone tightly as it powered on and displayed the heavenly home screen. I looked over my shoulder and back, just to make sure that it wasn't too good to be true.

I stared at the buttons with no knowledge whatsoever of how to navigate the device to get it to go to where I needed it to. I clicked an envelope icon on the far right and a text thread appeared before me.

There was nothing in the inbox or outbox. All the messages had clearly been deleted. I pressed yet another key to the far right, which brought me to a list of names I couldn't register and confusion plagued me.

I started with the letter A, scrolling through the list of contacts agonizingly slow.

Aaron.

Abigail.

Alaina.

Alison.

Andrea.

Aria.

Two names I recognized, but my finger only hovered hesitantly above one. I held my breath and pushed what I believed to be the call key. My hands were shaking so bad I could barely get the phone up to my ear.

Calling… Aria.

One ring. Two rings.

"We're sorry. Your call could not be completed as dialed."

End of flashback

I had tightened the laces on my beat up black converses and tied them over again so many times that I was genuinely surprised when my feet still had circulation.

One thing I had learned about myself was that I got distracted easily, and something in the whisper of the wind told me to stay put, trying to talk me out of this with a seductive tone.

But what I didn't conquer would remain the fear of the unknown. I didn't want to be afraid anymore. So I took a risk.

Pulling the sleeves of my oversized gray hoodie down enough to cover my hands, I crept wordlessly through the front lawn and looked both ways before stepping onto the sidewalk.

It was getting chillier now, as the sun had ceased to cast symphonies in the form of light from the sky. Night would soon devour the evening and a chill seeped and settled in my bones, following my every step.

Somewhere far off in the distance I could faintly hear a radio playing a heavy metal song, but almost as soon as I'd heard it, the sound stopped.

The streetlights flickered and I went from walking to almost sprinting, wandering even further into the darkness. From what I could gather through the dimness, it was a strange neighborhood.

The houses lining either side of the street all appeared content and inviting, well constructed and up-to-date, even. But when you took a closer look, when you ventured further and further towards the end of the road, something was off.

Driveways were vacant and without cars, but only in this particular area. Anyone observing just the beginning of the street might have assumed differently.

As I whizzed past the gated entryway to an abandoned mansion, I shivered. The moon was emerging as a slender in the sky while a slow realization give me an instant migraine.

This was stupid. I bypassed 3 more mailboxes before I skidded to a halt and wiped the sweat that had collected from my forehead, pausing momentarily to catch my breath.

Was I attempting to run away or attempting to make it to town? The lines between them were blurred and I wasn't certain what my intentions were anymore. Either way, I should've gotten an earlier start.

As I tottered on the balls of my feet, slightly scared of the dark, I rapidly decided that I had come too far to just surrender and resort back to my demented version of 'home.'

I started to take a step forward and that's when I heard something. The sound of footsteps quickly approaching me, indicating that whoever was near was obviously in a rush.

Then came the heavy breathing and I froze, instantaneously unable to make a decision. Should I make a run for it or merely stay put? Probably just a jogger.

Before I could come to a reasonable conclusion regarding my dilemma, I tasted the pavement and felt the cement invade my tongue as my body hit the ground.

Everything hurt all at once. My back, my arms, my head, my legs.

I groaned from the pain and coughed as my wrist was roughly jerked forward.

I came within inches of a face at first distorted from view before my eyes could adjust. I blinked profusely and then I saw. I saw but I didn't remember.

"Where the fuck do you think you're headed?" A voice barked, assertive and overpowering. I just stared. Those facial features were familiar. But I couldn't for the life of me evoke a name.

Attempting to shrug the female off only intensified the situation. She stood and yanked me from the ground, bending my arms to an inhumane degree and shoving them behind my back.

"Let me go." I growled, gritting my teeth. The unknown figure gripped me forcefully and slipped a harsh pair of metallic cuffs around my wrists. I started to scream but was rudely interrupted.

Headlights suddenly blinded me and I could say no more. The taste of cement in my mouth was now replaced by the taste of cotton and by the time I realized that I was being gagged, it was too late.

More of them were coming to ambush me. I tried desperately to move but I was being carried away. There was no use.

A vehicle abruptly stopped on the curb and the back side door flung open almost immediately. I kicked violently as a group of them surrounded me in a circle formation, lifting me up to hoist me into the SUV.

All the strength I had within had been robbed from me and it was finished in seconds. Just a quiet scuffle in a semi residential area with no witnesses and no difference. I was already dead to everyone.

What if I didn't want to close my eyes and face the reality of death? What if I wanted to figure out what had brought me so close to it the first time?

I had gotten a second chance, and I had wasted it on naïve curiosity and pure senselessness.

This was it. It was over.